


May I?

by JackandMarkaremySunandStars (ImagineBeingSafe)



Series: Tightrope [2]
Category: Markiplier-fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Belly Rubs, Caretaking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Music, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-18 02:33:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14203161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineBeingSafe/pseuds/JackandMarkaremySunandStars
Summary: May I hold you as you fall to sleepWhen the world is closing inAnd you can't breathe hereMay I love you, may I be your shieldWhen no one can be foundMay I lay you downAll that's made me is all worth tradingJust to have one moment with youSo I will let go with all that I knowKnowing that you're here with meFor your love is changing me- Trading yesterday, May I.Bits and pieces of you and Mark, and the life that you choose.{aka all my oneshots, bits, drabbles ect.}





	1. Easing your pain. {AKA, first belly rub}

**Author's Note:**

> First off, none of this is based in reality. It may be based on real people, but this is just a story. It's just stuff pulled from my head, that i think others might like.

He'd picked you up at work, and you went shopping for supplies for a video he was going to film. He'd worried about it, about it not being romantic, but you'd countered that with the fact that you just wanted to spend time with him.

 

You'd gotten some treats, so it wasn't a loss.

 

But all evening he saw you, taught and tense, never really standing still even when you were studying things, shifting every few minutes when sitting in the car.

 

After the shopping, you'd kept a hand pressed to your stomach. He'd known something was wrong then. He had insisted that dinner be carryout, and offered a movie at home.

 

He grabs the bags, and heads to the kitchen. You follow.

 

He slides the last cold item into the fridge, and turns to see you, back against the island. Hand on your stomach, fingers digging in. Eyes shut tight. You're paler than he remembers from the store, too

 

His ears barely catch the soft whimper that leaves you lips. But it's the tipping point. You'd told him about the issues that your anxiety caused, but this is the first time he's seen it. He's going to try his best to fix it.

 

He walks over to you. He loosens your fingers from where they are gripping the countertop, and your eyes fly open.

 

"Come on, dinner can keep."

 

He keeps a hold on your hand, and leads you to his bedroom.

 

You are hesitant.

 

"I want you comfortable, the couch isn't big enough. Problem?"

 

Smarmy, that last bit. Trying to make you laugh. You are too close to the edge to do so. You don't know why you feel like this.

 

Someone in your life looking after you was a good thing. It really was. Why did you feel frightened and ashamed?

 

You decide to ignore the part of you that was yelling at you to stop being so weak.

 

You lay down on the bed.

 

_This is not how you expected to end up here._

 

He climbs on top of the bed after you get comfortable. He raises his hands toward your stomach-

 

 _You can't_. **You** ** _can't._**  You go to move, to call it all off and just go home.

 

His hand wraps around your arm to get you to lie flat.

 

 _Stubborn_ , meet **stubborn.**

 

You look at his face. Determination is the first thing you see, but there's sadness there, the longer you look. For you? You don't get that. You are grown, and can take care of it.

 

You say so. Isn't it the truth?

 

"You don't have to do it alone, Mira. Not all the time. Please let me help you."

 

Heartbreaker, eyes and all.

 

You give in and lie flat.

 

His hands slide your shirt up, then onto your belly. He's gentle at first, all sliding sweeps and soft circles.

 

Then he digs his hands in a bit and you moan, and he freezes.

 

"Did I hurt you?"

 

"N-Not. No-" You snap your mouth shut, then start again.

 

"It's going to hurt, before it feels better Mark. I've been through this before. Keep going."

 

He starts again, and you slide you eyes closed, just feeling it.

 

Mark's hands, fingertips rough from playing guitar. Solid and warm. Pressing up and down, then round in circles, then strokes lengthways.

 

You can't help the noise that slips from your throat.

 

It changed a bit, his hands feeling out how bad it was, and what he had to work with. Feeling the muscles under your skin. They were all drawn tight, tensed and taut.

 

"This has been going on all day?" he asks.

 

"Yeah," you answer, used to it.

 

Then you answered the silent question

 

"Mark, if I stopped everything when this happened I wouldn't get anything done."

 

He didn't respond to that, just focused on you.

 

He realized you were still not completely relaxed, your lips in a tight line, and realized it was a fear of being vocal.

 

"C'mon, baby. Don't care if you make noise."

 

Your breath caught at that, it was the first time he used a pet name.

 

That made you let go completely, and there were several groans.

 

He leaned forward, and gave you a kiss that left you with a dopey grin.

 

"Better?"

 

"Yes, much."

 

"Dinner?"

 

You mulled food over.

 

Your stomach growled. Loudly.

 

You blinked owlishly for a moment.

 

"…Starving, apparently," You said, sheepishly

 

"Give me a minute. I'll reheat everything, bring it back up. Pick a movie, " Mark got up and off the bed.

 

A meal of spaghetti carbonara, ceaser salad and garlic bread later, you were watching a movie from both your childhoods.

 

"Hey, pause it. I got us dessert to split," you said, getting up to get it.

 

You came up with the piece of chocolate Oreo cake you'd bought, it was so big you could spilt the thing and still have plenty.

 

Happily full, you watch another movie.


	2. Riding waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Mark helps you through anxiety induced nausea.  
> included is a sweet Chica moment, cuddles and kisses

Mark came out of his recording room. It was time for a break, to play with and walk Chica and see you.

 

He looked through the house for you, finally going back to the bedroom.

 

You were laying on your side, facing the wall. Something… something wasn't right.

 

"Y/N?" he questioned softly

 

You groan softly. When you speak, it's slow, with a lot of swallowing.

 

"Mark…

 

Woke up nauseous…

 

Can't really move… that much."

 

It goes quiet again, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

 

You feel him take your hand, and you open your eyes again.

 

You should have sucked it up, not said you were feeling bad. Anything to erase that look on his face.

 

Mark presses a kiss to your fingers, and stands.

 

"I've got to go take Chica for a walk. I'll bring back stuff to help."

 

"…No mint. It's suppose to help, but it just makes it worse for me."

 

"Noted."

 

You spent the time he was gone shifting from side to side. Being comfortable, then needing to move.

 

The sickness stays, ripples and waves, never letting up. You're thirsty, but don't risk it.

 

You doze- you think.

 

Because the next thing you know, you feel Mark's gentle hand on your face.

 

"Hey. Brought some things."

 

He sets down a bag. Chica peers at you, then licks the hand that's closest to the bed's edge.

 

"Hi, Bubs," You murmur, looking at her.  "I'm not gonna be any fun for a while."

 

Mark's going through the bag.

 

"Can you sit up, or is that a bad idea right now?"

 

You do so.

 

 _'Ohh… that might be worse.'_ Flies through your head.

 

Mark hears you groan and exhale. He looks up to see you've gone pale, and have both arms wrapped around your stomach.

 

You don't see him move, but you feel the bed move minutely.

 

Then he's easing you onto pillows, propping you onto your side.

 

"Better, sweetheart?" He asks.

 

"Mmph… Yes…"

 

It's not at going-to-puke-NOW levels, anyways. So, better.

 

"ok- Cola, ginger, or fruit?"

 

"…Fruit."

 

You hear him unwrap something, then his hand moves in front of your face.

 

_'A lollipop? Okkay…'_

 

You put it in your mouth. Slightly sour tangerine.

 

Muffled and lisp-y from the Lollipop, you take the risk and ask.

 

 

"Could you please just- just cuddle me?"

 

"Of course."

 

Mark gets into bed beside you, and you curl into him.

 

You nuzzle into his neck. You're surrounded by his scent.

 

Slightly sweaty, but in the best way, deodorant over that, his body wash. Sunshine, and a bit of Chica.

 

He hums softly, and strokes a hand up and down your side.

 

The lollipop is actually working. Surprising.

 

The phrase 'I could kiss you' comes to mind. You are indulging, after you finish it.

 

You toss the stick into the garbage bin.

 

Ok, so not much more than kisses and cuddles today. But you can put your all into it, now.

 

You nuzzle back into him, and start kissing softly at his neck, his shoulder, all the places you can reach.

 

His laughter shakes you both.

 

Impulsively, He moves you both, you're on top, and he pulls you into a head spinning, soul-searing kiss.

 

You lay on top of him, head on his chest,  legs tangled. His arms go around you to keep you in place.

 

You both are content.


	3. Held

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment between...

 

"Sweetheart?"

 

Mark's voice cut through your thoughts.

 

You turned to look at him. His eyes were worried.

 

"M'fine, Mark."

 

Yeah- he didn't believe that for a second.

 

"C'mere."

 

"Why? I don't- I-"

 

"'Cause I said so."

 

He opened his arms plactatingly.

 

You sit in his lap, upper half being held by him, legs stretched out to the side.

 

You put your head to his chest, hearing his heartbeat and relaxing. One of Mark's hands sides through your hair, fingertips playing with the soft strands.

 

[In this moment, he's just yours, and you love him fiercely.](https://78.media.tumblr.com/db0a30d892b18f5fa228bfa80b64e74c/tumblr_p73deiwSlt1tvti5mo4_400.gif)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short, I'm working on a two shot where Mark gets Sick, and then Reader/You/Mira gets properly sick, not just anxiety related stuff.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any ideas, or want to see headcanons or other bits of this universe, just comment.  
> I hope you like it.


End file.
